


i say go go go

by amurderof



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Consensual Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Kink Meme, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Restraints, Rimming, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amurderof/pseuds/amurderof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian rolls onto his side to face him, squinting in the mid-morning light. "You wanted to talk, last night. So talk."</p><p>"Mm, not like this." Bull cracks his neck, stretches his free arm above his head. Dorian doesn't even pretend he's not watching the muscles shift in Bull's shoulder. "You don't talk about sex in bed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	i say go go go

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to [a prompt on the kink meme](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/12449.html?thread=48373665#t48373665), bc that's apparently that's the easiest way to get myself to write! Go ~~porn~~ team. 
> 
> A huge thank you to [fiveyearmission](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyearmission) for being herself, and to [iambickilometer](http://iambickilometer.tumblr.com) for their support!

"No, that's not -- you're straining my arm."

Bull glances up, halting mid-lick of the vint's frigging _lovely_ stomach, and eases up on the grip he's got on Dorian's arms. "Good?"

Dorian huffs, looking for all the world like Bull's determined to ruin his life. He's got that expression on his face, like somebody used the wrong fork during dinner. " _No_ , it isn't as though I told you to stop."

Bull props himself up on his elbow, keeps his eye on Dorian's exasperated face. "You complained."

"I didn't use my watchword," Dorian protests, and Bull thinks back to the conversation they'd had -- yes, if you say no or stop I'll check in, but if you say "archon" I'll stop immediately -- and wonders how he ended up here, a naked, pushy mage in his bed, on multiple occasions. Which he was _pleased_ about, really.

"I can't read your mind."

"Then what use are those years of Ben-Hassrath brainwashing? Mind-reading seems the least it could've granted you."

Bull huffs a laugh, pressing his forehead to Dorian's hip, while Dorian makes the token effort to remind him to watch his horns. He lets go of Dorian's arms, kisses the skin under his lips. "We'll talk about this later."

"Oh, later, of course, that sounds -- _Maker's breath_!" Dorian squawks, because mind-reader or not, Bull's damn sure Dorian doesn't have any objections about getting his dick sucked.

 

==

 

"So, talk," Dorian mutters in the morning, his face mashed against his pillow in a futile attempt to avoid the sunlight streaming through the gap in the roof above Bull's bed.

"'Bout?" Bull asks, lying on his back next to him. His arm's asleep, trapped under Dorian's stomach. It's nice.

Dorian rolls onto his side to face him, squinting in the mid-morning light. "You wanted to talk, last night. So talk."

"Mm, not like this." Bull cracks his neck, stretches his free arm above his head. Dorian doesn't even pretend he's not watching the muscles shift in Bull's shoulder. "You don't talk about sex in bed."

"That's ridiculous," Dorian says, and then Bull's got Dorian's foot flat against his thigh.

"Are you... trying to push me out of bed?"

Dorian groans, burying his head back in his pillow. In a move that isn't attractive in the slightest, Dorian flicks his fingers and whatever frigging blood magic he's sacrificed lambs and kittens for sends Bull tumbling out of bed.

They don't end up talking, but Bull does learn his knees are still young enough to survive floor sex.

==

Bull figures he'll finally get Dorian to sit down and talk in the tavern, or when they're camped out with nothing to distract themselves with save marauding bears. So he's surprised when he drops off research specimens with Helisma in the library and Dorian beckons him over, gives him a bawdy once-over, and gestures to the empty chair he's dragged over at some point. "This is as un-sexy a spot as I can imagine," Dorian explains, and Bull thinks that's only because they haven't managed to have sex here yet. "So talk, about whatever it is you wanted to."

Bull glances back at the any other patrons of the library -- he doesn't have a problem with it, but Dorian tends to be more circumspect -- and Dorian barks a laugh, says, "The only person who gets close enough to me to overhear is that clucking Chantry hen, and it would _serve her right_."

"All right..." Bull starts, and when Dorian looks impatient, continues, "So when we started doing what we're doing--" Neither of them _grimaces_ , but there's discomfort there. Bull doesn't expect much more from two people with no real experience with relationships; they're both self-aware enough to acknowledge they're kind of fucked up. "--we talked, in general terms. Watchwords, basic ground rules."

"And it's time to be more specific," Dorian says, steepling his fingers in front of him.

"I need to know what you like, don't like. What your boundaries are." Bull leans back and remembers why he hates the frigging chairs in the library, his horns smacking against the protruding sides of the wingback.

Dorian bites back a smile and crosses his arms, considers. "How does one know one's boundaries unless they've had them tested?"

Bull arches an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that you wouldn't like getting shat on."

Dorian's expression is _incredible_. Vints have got to have to sit for portraits at some point in between all their blood magic and ritual sacrifice, and Bull hopes that Dorian's portrait captures this very expression.

"Body fluids are _right out_ ," Dorian snaps. "Save saliva and -- semen, obviously." He wrinkles his nose in distaste. "I can't believe you'd -- you're disgusting."

"Confirming boundaries," Bull corrects, and grins at him. "You like being restrained."

"Ye-eees," Dorian agrees, though he looks embarrassed to admit it openly. "But only physically. I'm not interested in behaving like a half-wit, even temporarily."

"But you also like complaining about it."

"I'm sure you've noticed by now, but I'm rather opinionated."

"You're a brat."

"Well, yes, if being a 'brat' is letting you know how I feel about what you're doing, you brute."

"And you'll tell me if you actually want me to stop -- you'll use your watchword." Bull drops the smile from his face and leans forward, looks at Dorian long and unblinking, because if Dorian wants this, any of this, Bull needs to be able to trust Dorian to tell him to stop.

Dorian purses his lips, nods once. "I will. And I... well, I expect you to ignore it, most of the time. I'm rarely pleased with anything you do, and Maker knows you keep right on existing."

"No," Bull says, voice firm. "You give me your watchword and I stop, no questions asked. That's not up for debate." Bull's still leaning forward, and Dorian shifts in his chair, looks almost uncomfortable with his sincerity.

"And if I tell you 'stop'..."

"Then I'll probably check in anyway. Then again, maybe I won't."

Dorian breathes out slowly, swallows. Crosses his legs -- and Bull leers at him. "You're a savage," he says, but it's lacking even the most basic sting. "And I agree to those terms."

"Great." Bull leans back. "I like marking people up -- nothing permanent. Bites, bruises in the shape of my spread fingers. You know."

"Yes, of that I'm well-aware." Dorian looks less flustered with this topic, uncrosses his legs. (Bull keeps leering.) "I'd prefer nothing visible, once I've put on my clothes--"

"You telling me there's consistency in where your robes cover or don't everyday?"

Dorian rolls his eyes. "Within _reason_ , I was going to say, before I was rudely interrupted. Use your discretion -- you were a spy, I've great faith in you."

"Aww, that really hits me right here." Bull lets the leer fade to a small smile, makes a mental note to keep things below the collarbone and above the shoulder -- so far he's never seen the vint's right arm bare, but that's not a risk he's willing to take. What else... "You like that I'm bigger than you. You like getting man-handled."

Dorian purses his lips. "Oh, you're sure of that, are you." 'Course, Dorian looks Bull over as he says it, his eyes lingering on Bull's shoulders, the breadth of his arms, and then -- _ha_ \-- down to his crotch. "Oh, fine, yes," he says, his hand flitting next to his head. "I do enjoy... what you can do, with your size. If one has the opportunity to bed a giant, one should reap the benefits thereof."

"Well that's flattering," Bull says, shifting in his seat -- and yeah, Dorian looks at his crotch again, one track mind, the perv. And with Dorian enjoying their physical differences, what Bull represents, muscle and strength, Bull figures it may extend to related activities, power kind of shit. "How d'you feel about spanking? Choking?"

It's kind of impressive, how quickly Dorian's face can light up with a blush. Equally impressive is how fast he can go from looking carefully disinterested to frigging mortified. Maybe this is something he doesn't want even the old Chantry hen to hear.

"That's -- well, that's. I just don't know," he says, his eyes wide, and yeah, at least one of those is gonna happen. Maybe not right away, but that's the look of a man who hasn't let himself consider something as a possibility.

Bull knows Dorian hasn't done a lot -- that the majority of his experience comes from too-fast quickies in the shadows and nameless hook-ups where the goal was only to get off. But he's not gonna dictate Dorian's sexual past for him. "Opinions on other sources of pain?"

Dorian frowns at the question, looks conflicted. "I don't want you to go in dry, if that's what you're asking."

" _Shit_ , no. _No_." Bull's not even sure that'd _work_ without permanent injury. Augh. _No_. "I meant, wax, ice, hair pulling. Keeping you on the edge for so long that you cry. Stuff like that."

Dorian's wide-eyed again. Bullseye. _Ha_. "I don't have, well. I'm not sure. That last sounds... _well_."

"It'd be pretty easy." Bull shrugs, ignores the knock of the chair against his shoulders. Seriously not made for Qunari, this place. Worth it, though, for the way Dorian's stopped breathing. Oh, that's good. "Get you tied up so you can't touch yourself, suck you off until you're shaking, stop. Watch you writhe."

Dorian lets out this... short, high-pitched _noise_ , and claps his hands together, stands up from his chair. The blush is back, inching up past his collar. "Well, I'm going to retire. Won't you join me." And he strides off past Bull, towards his room.

Bull doesn't laugh, covers his mouth to hide his smile, and follows him, giving Mother Giselle a bland look when she stares at him as he passes. Poor old thing.

 

==

 

"You never said 'yes' or 'no'," Bull says, resting his chin on Dorian's stomach while the man frigging _vibrates_ underneath him.

"I have _no_ idea what you're on about," Dorian snaps, his arms straining against the restraints. Bull got 'em new but they're broken in now, the leather cuffs around Dorian's wrists supple, the sheep skin lining smoothly matted. The chainlink connecting each cuff to the bedframe doesn't need to be very strong, and it jingles every time Dorian moves his arms.

Bull presses a kiss next to Dorian's navel and trails a finger around his thigh, then up, sliding his fingertip across Dorian's balls. Dorian stutters out a gasp and Bull looks up in time to see his eyes flutter closed. Fucking gorgeous. But -- right, don't get distracted. "About pain."

"Right now I'm wholly uninterested," Dorian says, bending one of his knees out, an obvious attempt to entice Bull into getting on with it. It'd absolutely work on a lesser man. As it is, Bull just gets a nice eyeful.

"Not pain then," Bull clarifies, "but discomfort. Not letting you come."

Dorian clicks his tongue, raising his bent knee to knock against Bull's shoulder. "I'd like to see you try and stop me."

"Good. Keep that vim and vigor!"

Dorian knees him harder and Bull laughs, slapping his thigh just enough to sting. Dorian hisses at him before letting his leg fall back to the bed, muttering under his breath about manners, which Bull's definitely got, though licking Dorian's belly button just to watch him squirm doesn't really exemplify them.

"Absolutely _not_ arousing!" Dorian squawks. But Bull glances up at him, grin on full display, and works his tongue down Dorian's stomach, drinks in the sound of Dorian's shaky breathing, the way he fully _stops_ when Bull licks at the root of his dick.

"Did you know," Bull says, lips brushing foreskin, "that a lot of people believe holding your breath makes it harder to achieve orgasm?"

Dorian lets out his breath in an angry rush and rocks his hips up, his cock brushing up against Bull's chin. "Did you know that boring me to death doesn't count for your little game?"

And that's enough from him, Bull decides, wraps a hand around Dorian's cock and presses it against Dorian's stomach at the same time that he shifts down the bed so he can get his mouth around his balls. Dorian moans underneath him, and Bull responds by humming, flattening Dorian's cock against Dorian's abs and slowly rubbing his hand up and down, a pretty crappy handjob all things considered but still stimulus, still something to make Dorian shudder.

Dorian shifts his bent leg over Bull's shoulder, digs his heel into Bull's back and closes his eyes, breathing in long measured draws. Bull wraps his hand under Dorian's other thigh and bends his leg up, drags Dorian closer by the hips, grins as the restraints around Dorian's wrists go taut. "Oh fuck," Dorian hisses, turning his head against his pillow. Bull moves his hand from Dorian's cock to grip the leg thrown over his shoulder, ducks his head, and spits against Dorian's pink little hole while Dorian curses above him.

"Saliva still good?" Bull asks, and his grin stretches wider when Dorian's response is an emphatic _yes_ , proceeded by a string of curses Bull doesn't bother translating. He's got better things to do with his attention, like get Dorian to a point where he can't even form words. First time Bull had asked if he could eat out Dorian's sweet perky ass (those words exactly, one of his finer seductions), Dorian had stared at him for a long moment before snapping that it was _Bull's mouth_ after all, there was simply no teaching proper hygiene to such a creature, but if he thought it'd be interesting... Dorian had been reduced to moaning, and set the fucking curtains on fire, so. Point, Bull.

Dorian's leg starts twitching in Bull's grip when he gets to fucking his hole with his tongue, and when Bull moves his other hand, grabs at one of Dorian's asscheeks to give himself more room, Dorian thumps his head against the pillow. " _Touch me._ "

Bull doesn't react -- he is, after all, touching Dorian in quite a lot of places. What he does do is slide his thumb over to massage the muscle tight around his tongue, slow because he knows it drives Dorian wild. Dorian gasps out, " _Bull_ ," and Bull would smile if he could. Pulls back with a loving lick straight across his hole, so he can.

"Y'think you could come, just from this?" he asks.

Dorian's quiet for a moment, replies, "Oh probably." The strain in his voice is a damn compliment.

Bull kisses his reddened hole and draws the pad of his thumb across it, bites his lip at the way the muscle spasms. No good, if he keeps looking he's gonna forget making Dorian writhe and just go for it -- he lets up on Dorian's bent leg, guides it over his shoulder, kisses the inside of both of Dorian's thighs. He closes a hand around Dorian's cock and guides it into his mouth, doesn't move past that, keeps his thumb and forefinger circled around the base.

"Andraste's tits," Dorian bites out, and when Bull looks up as best he can, Dorian's pulling at his restraints like there was any chance he could break through with just his physical strength. "Stop _teasing_ me."

Bull hums around Dorian's cock and swallows him down, tongue sliding across hot skin, a move that's always easy with anybody but another qunari, and also always damn effective at eliciting the reaction he's looking for -- Dorian's complaints cut off at the source as he lets out a sharp cry, crosses his ankles on Bull's back and tries to force him closer. Bull laughs as well as he can, laughs harder when Dorian curses at him, and when Dorian starts rocking his hips, fucking into Bull's mouth, Bull pulls back, keeping his fingers tight around the base of Dorian's cock, just in case.

Dorian's frigging gorgeous, flushed and dark and shimmering with sweat instead of looking gross, somehow, like he always manages. He arches his head back into his pillow and swears, jerks his hips up like that'll do anything.

"How you doing up there, babe?"

 "I will burn down the  _roof_ ," comes the response.

Bull forces Dorian's hips down to the mattress and watches the clasps connecting the restraints to the bedframe gouge into the wood. "Want me to free your hands?"

Dorian stops struggling underneath him for one brief moment, looks down at him, says through shuddering breaths, "If you do, I'll get myself off. You giving up so easily?" A corner of Bull's mouth curves up in a smile, and Dorian echoes it for a moment -- before dropping his head back to his pillow and kicking Bull in the back with both his feet.

Bull leans up, grabs one of Dorian's knees so his legs don't slide off of him onto the mattress, and reaches back for the oil he'd set at the foot of the bed before they'd started. He spills it onto his fingers, waits a second to warm it, then presses his forefinger against the still-flushed rim of Dorian's hole. (He's trimmed the nails --  _claws,_ Dorian had once said, then looked smug until Bull agreed that yeah, that sounded cooler -- on his right hand for years now, hard to convince somebody to let your fingers near their nethers otherwise. Sera had remarked on it once, and the two of them had bonded over the importance of properly maintained nail length until Blackwall started giving them weird looks.) It's easy then, to push the first finger in, slow but still second-knuckle deep.

"Wish you'd done this before, to be honest." Bull kisses the soft skin of Dorian's inner thighs on either side of his head as Dorian stares up at him, eyes half-lidded, mouth panting and open. "Gotten fucked by men from north to south, your ass fingered open and loose. You would've known what it's like then, the difference." He slides his finger out, adds his middle finger on the slow glide back in, watches Dorian's eyes slip shut as he bites his bottom lip.

"Two of my fingers, like this," and he curves his fingers up once they're seated within Dorian, drinks in the whine tumbling past Dorian's bit lip, "are all that you'd get from some human's cock when they fucked you."  He pulls his fingers out, fast, then slowly guides them back in, curling up at the end of the slide -- and Dorian lets out a frigging toe-curling shout when Bull adds a third finger.

Dorian's never come just from getting fucked, so Bull lets himself really enjoy this -- the timbre of Dorian's voice when Bull teases his prostate, the way his whole damn body shudders when Bull holds his fingers just at the rim of his hole, massages the stretched muscle with the pad of his thumb. He's thinking of seeing how far he can go, how much Dorian can take but... Bull's proud of his ability to ignore his own arousal when he's got better things to do, but that's a sight that's going straight to his dick.

"C'mon baby," Bull says, withdraws his fingers and curves his hands around both of Dorian's legs, still over his shoulders. His ankles unwind easy enough, and Bull settles Dorian's legs on either side on himself, a stretch Dorian may have protested had he the sense to. Dorian shudders when Bull lays the backs of his knuckles against Dorian's straining cock, doesn't even move them, just applies pressure.

Bull circles his other hand around his own dick and huffs out a breath, _shit_. He's not sure he wants to fuck Dorian like this, when he's so sensitive, so Bull twists his hand on his cock, curses and lets himself sink into the feeling -- how frigging hot Dorian looks laid out in front of him, quivering from everything he's let Bull do to him, has _wanted_ Bull to do to him.

Bull grunts when his orgasm hits him, too damn fast but Dorian's not in any state to mock him for it. He pumps his dick, watches his spunk land across Dorian's ass and the root of Dorian's cock -- and Bull has to drop both of his hands to the mattress on either side of Dorian's hips to keep himself from collapsing on top of him. Forces himself to take deep, slow breaths.

"Are you dead," Dorian mutters, and Bull's got a feeling if Dorian could bring himself to move his legs, he'd get nudged by a demanding foot right about now. "If you're dead I'll never forgive you."

Bull gives himself another half a minute before he huffs a laugh, shifts his weight to one hand so he can brush the other against Dorian's cock, watch it jump at his touch. He drags his fingers through his come and wraps his hand around Dorian, lowers his head to Dorian's thigh and kisses the dark skin under his lips, jerks Dorian off in measured strokes. The sound Dorian makes can only be called a frigging _sob_ , and all of his muscles start vibrating, his skin shaking under Bull's mouth. Bull tilts his head, horn bumping into the mattress, so he can see the long line of Dorian's throat, his open mouth, as he comes.

"That's it, babe, that's it." Bull keeps stroking him, even after he's stopped coming, until Dorian lets out a high-pitched whine -- Bull keeps close but withdraws his hand, lifts it to his mouth and sucks the come from his fingertips. Damn nasty, but he likes it anyway.

" _Menace_ ," Dorian mumbles, and when Bull glances up Dorian's watching his mouth, watching his fingers disappear past Bull's lips.

"You always say the sweetest things," Bull responds, and Dorian actually giggles at that, dropping his head back onto his pillow, rattling his restraints. "Gimme a sec and I'll get you out of those, get you cleaned up."

"To the void with getting cleaned up," Dorian rasps. "Get me out so I can throttle you."

Bull laughs, kisses the side of Dorian's knee. "On it, kadan." Lucky thing for him that Dorian's throttling always resembles cuddling.

**Author's Note:**

> SUP DARLINGS you can follow me on [tumblr here](http://amurderof.tumblr.com) if you so choose. I mostly have feelings about fictional characters in tags, and have recently started replaying DA2. How riveting.
> 
> Additionally!! The next fic in the pipeline is most likely gonna be a series of vignettes about the years-later adventures of Dorian and the Chargers, so if you have any ideas that come to mind you'd like to see me attempt in fic form, give me a holler at ye ol' [askbox](amurderof.tumblr.com/ask) or in a comment below!


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